"What's so funny?" David demanded.
"You look a little worse for wear," Larry said.
"I'm fine now," David replied.
"Are you sure?" Chris asked.
David's hair was a mess. His shirt was not tucked on one side. His zipper was up but a portion of his shirt stuck out of his zipper hole. He had a crooked smile on his face as he staggered down the stairs. Instead of being on a turbulence filled flight, he resembled a college student who had partied extremely hard after his exam week. Again, Ty and Larry laughed while Chris shook his head.
"It's not what you think," David said as he finally staggered to the hanger floor.
"Bullshit!" Ty exclaimed.
"How was she?" Chris asked.
"Nothing happened!" David said.
"Bullshit!" Ty exclaimed again.
David opened his mouth to protest again, but Chris held up a hand. "Before you open your mouth and embarrass yourself any further, we all know what went on."
"But…"
Chris continued to hold up his hand. "As I said on the plane, I might not be the world's greatest expert when it comes to the opposite sex, but I have been around for a very long while. She tried to act innocent which only drew more attention to herself when she exited the plane. She did a very good job dressing herself except that she missed a button and her flight jacket was crooked. Considering that she was able to walk so easily and your shirt is sticking out through your zipper, I'm assuming that you didn't completely join the mile high club, but you didn't discuss the weather in there either."
David blushed and the two other men laughed. Chris said nothing but waited for an answer.
"So what was better, son?" Ty asked. "Seeing her tits or the blowjob that she just gave you?"
David blushed further. "Fuck off," he said.
Larry shook his head. "David, you are only getting teased because we are insanely jealous. She is a very attractive woman."
"Did you at least make plans to see her when you get back to Denver?" Chris asked.
"Yes," David said sheepishly.
"Good," Larry said before he turned to Ty. "I believe that you were about to lead us somewhere."
David loosened his pants and properly tucked in his shirt. He adjusted his zipper and tightened his belt. He tried to fix his hair but it was a mess. Larry tried not to laugh but Ty was not as accommodating. He giggled as David tried to make himself look presentable. Chris stood stoically and said nothing.
"Gentlemen, now that we are all here," Ty said, "I must inform you that time is of the essence. Please follow me so we can depart for your next destination."
Larry and David nodded and they began to follow the colonel. Chris did not move. David rolled his eyes and Larry shook his head. He should have realized that Chris wasn't going to move unless his personal belongings were back in his possession. Ty was confused.
"Is there a problem?" Ty asked Chris.
"Where are we going?" Chris asked.
"I have made arrangements for a military escort to Halifax."
"I understand, but what about my belongings?" Chris pressed.
"They will be safe here."
Chris didn't move. "I need assurances that my comic book collection will be unharmed."
"COMIC BOOKS?" Ty scoffed.
Chris didn't move or respond.
Ty, who was used to being in charge and having men and women move at his command, was stunned. Chris, the famed vampire hunter, was more concerned with his comic book collection than stopping vampires.
"Son, we don't have time," Ty said sternly.
"Yes, we do," Chris said.
"Do I have to order you?" Ty warned.
"I don't answer to you," Chris replied coldly.
His stare unnerved Ty and David. A fiery passion, which would have frightened a coldhearted criminal, burned in his eyes. Ty tried not to flinch but his natural fears overcame him. He turned to Larry for assistance.
"What is going on here?" he demanded.
Larry smiled. "Our friend has one passion: Comic books. He has collected them for as long as I can remember. For what he gives us, we should at least accommodate his request."
"And his request would be?" Ty asked Larry.
"You could consider asking me," Chris said. "I have ears."
Ty turned to face the vampire hunter. "I apologize. Yes, that was very rude of me. What is your request?"
"I want my case secured. Nothing more, nothing less."
"I'm sure that we can place it in my footlocker," Ty assured. "Please let us not waste…"
Larry shook his head and Ty immediately stopped. "They will not fit in your footlocker."
"What?" Ty asked. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Just how many did you bring?"
"At least three hundred," David answered for Chris. "His suitcase is in the plane. It will take at least two of your strongest men to carry it. I suggest locking it in your office."
"THREE HUNDRED?" Ty questioned loudly.
Chris nodded. "I like comic books."
Ty rubbed his chin. "Okay, can we compromise…"
"I don't compromise," Chris said coldly.
"Can you at least hear what I have to say?" Ty asked.
"It is my turn to apologize. Please finish your question," Chris said.
Ty breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Can we at least head towards our transport as I radio my major and instruct him on how to handle your belongings?"
"I need to see it secured," Chris said.
Larry cleared his throat. "Chris, his request is not unreasonable. Please we are delaying. We must get to Halifax."
Chris turned to David for support but he shook his head. "I have to agree with Larry. Two against one here, pal."
"Very well," Chris said before he turned towards the exit door.
It was Ty's turn to clear his throat. "Son, wrong direction."
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"Tarmac."
"For what?"
"Halifax is a long drive son and this is an air force base," Ty replied.
"So?"
"Next stop, Shearwater," Ty said.
"How are we getting there?" Chris asked.
The sounds of a helicopter landing near the hanger drained the limited color from Chris' face. He turned to Larry as his eyes widened. He glanced back and forth between all three men. He froze in place. Larry and David each took an arm. His head shook vigorously.
"Over my dead body!" Chris exclaimed.
"You are already dead!" David retorted.
"Over my walking dead body then," Chris snapped as he tried to dig his heels into the concrete hanger floor.
"I'll order you the scale bust of the Green Lantern," David said.
Chris stopped fighting. "The one to two scale of Hal Jordan with the fabric costume?" he asked excitedly as Ty opened the door.
"Yes," David lied.
"When?"
"After we get back from Halifax," Larry added.
The rain pounded the black top runway. The main rotor of the CH
148 Cyclone helicopter thumped rhythmically. The twin engine craft was purchased by the Canadian Military to replace the antiquated Sea King helicopters. The metal craft awaited with one of its side doors open. Thunder and lightning shook the earth. Ty made a dash through the rain to the waiting machine. Larry and David dragged Chris towards the aircraft.
He screamed.
* * *
The Halliburton Hotel, located within walking distance of the famous Halifax waterfront, was built in 1809 for Sir Brenton Halliburton. Sir Halliburton served as the first chief justice of the Nova Scotia Supreme Court. The buildings, which were his home, were renovated into an alternative to the high-priced upscale hotels of downtown Halifax. His library was remodeled into a guest area where visitors were welcomed by a warm fire and locally roasted coffee. For Mikhaeli, the hotel, while offering her fine accommodations, was only a short walk from the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic: Her next t
arget.
The historic architecture offered a wide variety of style and décor, but Mikhaeli demanded their finest room available. Before leaving the medical examiners office, she had changed out of her blood stained scrubs that she had borrowed from Dr. Muranko. The receptionist, who saw her leaving in a new pair of scrubs, inquired as to why she was leaving so early. Mikhaeli told her that she was ill and she dashed into the restroom. The receptionist, trying to be helpful, followed her. It was the last moment that she spent on Earth as she was Mikhaeli's next meal. Mikhaeli removed her clothes and hailed a cab while being thankful that the overcast and wet conditions had continued.
The mid-afternoon traffic heading away from the waterfront was relatively light. People were still busy working. Mikhaeli had borrowed the receptionist's purse and instructed the cab to wait for her while she entered a bank. Ten minutes later, she returned to the cab with a smile on her face and blood on her collar. When the cab driver asked her why she was smiling, she leaned over the seat and handed him a crisp United States fifty dollar bill. The cab driver quickly turned around and asked her what her next destination would be. She didn't hesitate in asking for the most expensive designer fashion store in the city.
The cab driver again waited as she spent nearly an hour shopping. The miserable dark skies drenched the public as they valiantly moved from store to store. The cab driver loaned Mikhaeli an umbrella. It was plain and completely beneath her class. However, it kept her hair and clothes, which were department store knock-offs, dry as she prepared to shop for significantly more expensive clothes.
The bell to the designer clothing store door rang as she entered. There were hangers for umbrellas next to the door. She shook the rain from her borrowed umbrella and hung it next to the others. She glanced around the store and her fashion fantasy had come true. The finest designer clothes from around the world adorned the mannequins and hung from the racks. She smiled lustfully as she began to wander around the store. However, none of the seven clerks, who were working, had even glanced in her direction.
Her anger grew from annoyed to furious with each passing step. She realized that her department store clothing had masked her wealth. They had assumed that she was a window shopper who had come in from the cold, wet weather, but had zero ability to purchase any of their high-priced wares. She smugly continued to strut about the store until finally a young man approached her.
"Have you been helped, ma'am?" the young man who had just finished aiding another shopper inquired.
"No, I have not, but I am just looking right now," she lied.
He smiled and she thought he was somewhat cute, far below her league, but cute nonetheless. "When you are ready, my name is Drew and I would be more than happy to assist you."
"Why thank you, Drew," she said sweetly.
The young man smiled and departed. She opened her imitation leather purse and removed a large wad of one-hundred dollar bills. The staff, when they saw her flipping through the foreign currency, rushed to her side. Her anger was complete. They had ignored her until she had showed her wealth. Only the young man who had a client actually acknowledged her presence when he had finished helping his customer.
"Good afternoon young lady," an older man said. "My name is Leonard Stills. I am the manager and owner of the establishment. How may we help you?"
"Hrrumph," she squeaked. "Now that you see how much money that I have, your lecherous staff finally gives me the fucking time of day!"
"I beg your pardon?" Leo asked.
"You know just what I fucking mean. I was walking around this store for ten goddamn minutes and no one paid any attention to me. They were all busy texting on their phones or gossiping about whose cock that they were going to suck tonight instead of asking me if I needed any assistance. Only Drew came to see me after he finished with his customer. The only other customer in here!"
"I…I…I…I apologize. Your appearance…"
She loved every moment of this exchange. "My appearance?" she asked incredulously. "My appearance? My appearance was done for this very purpose. I wanted to see if your staff was as superficial and their fake nails, their obvious extensions, and their discount cosmetic surgery."
"Well…"
"Well nothing Leo," she taunted. "If you want my money, then you had better get Drew's little ass over here and a vanilla latte in my hand within the next five minutes or I am going to find someone else who wants a possible five figure sale."
"You heard the lady," Mr. Stills ordered, "GO!"
Within seconds, the staff scattered around the store. Leonard Stills frantically searched for Drew who was folding shirts. The young college student nodded when he heard his employer's instructions. He dashed back to Mikhaeli's side. She smiled and he returned the smile.
"I understand that you are in need of assistance, ma'am," he said.
"It's Michelle," she added. "I am far too young and as you can see hot, to be called ma'am."
He smiled. "Very well, Michelle. What can I show you first?"
"A vanilla latte," she said.
"Well, I will need a moment to…"
"No need," another employee called as he dashed to her side with a fresh coffee cup in his hand.
"Impressive," she said as she accepted the warm drink. "Now, I am ready to shop."
"What would you like to see first?" Drew inquired.
She took a sip from her latte. She licked her lips slowly. She smiled evilly. "Purple lingerie."
The young man turned pale and sweat formed on his brow. "Yes. Right this way," he said as he extended his left hand.
"Thank you," she said sweetly.
They passed several store employees. They all gave Mikhaeli nasty glances. She smiled sweetly and followed her guide. She noted every mannequin. She had already made several selections, but the young store clerk, who couldn't be any older than eighteen, had to be tormented before she had purchased her clothes for the evening.
"Okay stop," she ordered as she spied a mannequin in the lingerie section.
Drew froze in place. She had become quite enamored with the young man. He was very much a dork, but she found him surprising charming. He spun on his right heel and faced her. He had a lopsided grin which made her giggle.
"Yes, ma'am…er…I mean Michelle?" he stammered.
"You're cute," she teased.
He blushed and she giggled.
"Thank you," he said shyly.
Ooooo, she thought, I smell virgin meat. She smiled coyly before getting very excited. "I want that!" she said as she pointed to a mannequin in a purple, sexy, deep V, sheer fishnet camisette. It also wore a set of purple fishnet thigh high stockings and a matching g-string.
He wiped his brow. "I can see if we have it in your size if you don't mind me asking what it is."
She smiled and licked her lips. "Perfect," she said.
He blanched again. "I…I…I don't think that we have perfect as a size."
She slapped his arm gently. "I was just teasing silly. I am a size six," she said.
He nodded and disappeared. He returned shortly with the outfit draped over his left arm. She smiled as he approached. He held up the garment by the hook.
"Ooooo," she purred. "Changing rooms?"
"Changing rooms?" he asked as his voice cracked.
"Yes, silly," she teased again, "I need to see how it looks on me."
"Looks on you?" he asked as voiced cracked again.
She giggled as he pointed. She took the outfit from his hand. She made sure to brush his hand as she took it from him. He swallowed hard. She giggled and she disappeared into the changing room. She purposefully threw all of her clothes over the door. He probably just blew his load, she thought. She took her time as she dressed. She put on the lingerie. She would have admired herself if she had a reflection but she already knew that she was every man's dream.
She stepped from the changing room and every man gasped. Drew nearly drooled. She was beyond beautiful.
"A…Are you a m
odel?" he asked honestly.
"No," she said sweetly, "But I will take the compliment."
Before he could say another word, she turned around to show him her g-string.
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